Beneath the Palace of the Sisters lay a warren of tunnels, vaults, and halls. Each had been dug long ago to fill a particular need, but only one still kept its original purpose. In that circular chamber, a fire roared upon the hearth, and stand-lamps illuminated a dais that occupied the center. It was otherwise empty, save for a high balcony that encircled the room and a few scattered benches.
A grey stallion stood atop the dais. His mane was heavy with sweat and his shoulders spoke of weariness, but he persevered. Staring into the flames, he forced himself to take slow, even breaths, and listened for his heartbeat.
“Show me again,” prompted a voice that echoed from the shadows above.
Silently, the unicorn closed his eyes and focused his energies. Closing his eyes would have seemed a blessing, were he not trying to exhibit the spell once more. Still, the sooner she grasped how it worked, the sooner he could rest.
She did not break her stride, nor did she look away, yet Celestia maintained a steady pace along the railing. The spell that Somber Dreams wove was complex, and utilized theories she barely understood. It seemed to pull energy from nowhere, and turned it into a tangible force: This time, a flickering ebony sphere.
“Hold it there, please,” she called down. There, at the tip of his horn, was that looping back? Yes... “I think I see how you are doing that. You can release the spell, Somber.”
The sphere flickered away, and the unicorn staggered on his feet. In a flash, Celestia was at his side. “I am sorry. I should have noticed you growing so weary. Please, let me walk you to your room. I’ll have the kitchens bring something to you as well.”
Somber shook his head at his mentor. He pushed back his mane, stretched his neck, and took a deep breath. Stepping off the dais, he turned and smiled at her, then bowed his head before turning to leave.
“Tomorrow, then?” she called after him. “I think I’ve worked out what you’re doing, but I’d like you to observe.”
He paused at the door long enough to nod agreement, then shouldered it open and left the hall without a word. The door swung shut with a soft click. As soon as it did, something stirred on the balconies above.
“I do wonder about him, my sister,” murmured a voice from the shadows. “He rarely speaks, and his expressions are impossible to read.”
“We’ve had this discussion before, Luna,” replied Celestia. “He finds it difficult to speak more than a few words at a time.” She turned and smiled up at her younger sister. “You worry too much. You should trust your subjects, as I do. After all, can’t you observe their dreams? Sense when they are holding something back?”
“Most of our subjects, yes, and some of them, to answer both questions,” she replied. She stepped forward into the light, then shimmered and stood beside her sister. “I can do neither with him.” Luna eyed the door he had exited warily.
“I understand your suspicion. Give him a chance. Once I can duplicate the spell, I’m sure we’ll be better able to judge where he stands.”
“If you say so, Tia.” Luna stepped close and pecked her on the cheek, then continued her stroll for the door. “As for me, I will keep my polite but cautious distance.”
“As you will, then,” she called after her. “I believe I shall retire. Goodnight.”
Luna paused to look over her shoulder. “It will be, yes,” she replied, then stepped through the door. As it swung shut, she murmured, “Sleep well.”
Celestia frowned. A moment’s concentration found her in her own quarters, and she readied for bed. Still, something about their last exchange felt odd, and it was not until midnight that she had managed to find sleep.
Scattered coals glowed in the fireplace, and stand-lamps flickered in the corners of Somber’s lodgings. The door was barred, the windows locked, and the curtains drawn, but still he felt exposed. Closing his eyes, he stretched out his mind and felt along the stones. Nothing seemed out of place, but still...
He probed between the joints, delving past the mortar and through the fine joinery. No trace of a spell could be found. It’s not perfect, he thought, but it will have to—
They suspect you.
The thought came unbidden. More and more frequently, of late, his skull felt too crowded. Paranoia? Something stranger? He didn’t know, and could not take the time to find the answers. There was too much at stake.
What he had learned in the last few weeks was that ignoring the thoughts simply caused them to become more insistent.
“Of course they do,” he muttered to himself. “They are not fools. I’ve kept too much to myself.” He rubbed his temple. “Indeed, I did not think my evasions would have held out so long.” Somber turned towards the hearth and focused his magic. What coals had been glowing slowly began to die, and the candles in the room winked out.
The dark one is dangerous. She may know.
“If she knew she would have acted. No, I think things will become more interesting after my spells are understood. There is enough to concern ourselves with then.” He paused. Since when had he begun referring to himself in the plural? No matter.
“The Northern Reaches are leagues away.” Somber opened the drawer of his bedside table, and browsed its contents in the fading light. “We will need to be cautious if we are to advance. Once Celestia has tasted this new power, she will be easier to convince.”
Or control.
“Yes,” he answered, and walked to the fireplace. Against the gathering gloom, his horn glowed briefly as he touched up his cutie mark. The spell was layered several times, in the off chance he was hit by dispelling magic, to give him a fighting chance. For the thousandth time, he traced the image of the candle and its oddly-colored flame.
When he was finished, his horn flickered out and darkness reclaimed the chamber. He curled up before the dead coals on the hearth, and rested his head on his forelimbs. While the room was cold, the stones held on to enough heat for comfort. In moments, he fell towards slumber, but he did not sleep.
He found himself in an enormous cavern, cool and damp. At his hooves lapped dark, featureless waters. The only light was that from his horn—a spell cast in reflex, and one quickly extinguished. It would not do to seem armed, here.
As the light faded, something stirred in the distance. “You are late,” it whispered.
“I was delayed,” Somber explained, keeping his voice level and his eyes open, despite the featureless black. “I have made progress.”
“Have you?” the voice crooned, an eager note filling the dark. “Does she agree with your plans?”
“Your faith in my ability humbles me, my Lord, but I feel it is not yet time to show my cards.” This was dangerous ground, he knew. Depending on any number of factors, even the whims of chance, such independence might result in punishment. “I assure you, she will taste of my gift soon. Perhaps even tomorrow. Then will I be able to make my case.”
A long silence filled the cavern. For a time, the only sound the unicorn could hear was the blood in his ears, and the breath in his chest.
A ripple sounded in the distance.
“Very good, Somber. Yet, there is something you are not telling me.”
His heart leapt to his throat, and froze there. “My Lord, I do not understand. I would never think to conceal something from you.”
“But conceal you do. You have been worrying. Concerned...” The voice took on a cruel quality, etching his ears like acid on glass. “Yes, concerned about something that distracts you from your tasks.”
Somber nearly sighed in relief. “I have, my Lord. It is a small thing, I think.” He swallowed, then admitted aloud, “I have been arguing with myself.”
“Arguing? Do you doubt your path?”
Panic clawed at Somber’s mind. “No, Lord, I do not. Indeed, when I discuss these things in my thoughts, I find I am more resolute.”
“That is good. Worry not, then, Somber.” The voice seemed closer, but he knew better than to try to locate the source. “You shall have your reward soon enough, and the Northern Reaches will be the key. Be patient, and be observant. Trust no-one.”
“I shall do as you command, my Lord,” he pledged.
“You may sleep now, Somber.” Something shifted in his mind, but before he realized the meeting had ended, fatigue rolled him under.
Celestia sat at a low table and stifled a yawn. She stretched out her neck this way and that, then stared blearily into the simple breakfast she had prepared. She realized that she was in no mood to eat, and instead poured another cup of hot tea.
The sound of hooves on marble announced the new arrival moments before Luna appeared in the doorway. The mares traded unreadable, guarded expressions for a moment, then Luna clicked her tongue in irritation. She flowed into the room and gracefully sat at the other end of the table. “How do your lessons progress, sister?”
Celestia chuckled into her tea, and shook her head in resignation. “I begin to appreciate his ability, Luna. I can barely manage to sense the individual threads long enough to reach them. Every time, without fail, I close my eyes, reach out, touch something that resists me, and before I can grab hold...” She sighed. “It evaporates.”
Celestia downed the rest of her tea, made a face at the dregs, and poured another cup. “I must have been pushing him very hard, that first night.”
“I am sorry. I wish I could be there to provide some support, but the nightly incursions by those dogs have been keeping me occupied. I fear they will only grow more intense as winter drags on.”
“I understand. We all have our duties. I must remember that as well. I cannot let my fascination with this new power distract me from my responsibilities.”
Luna smiled, a genuine expression of relief crossing her features. “I am glad to hear that. It’s why I made sure to visit, today, but it is better that such a realization comes unbidden.”
Celestia smiled back. A bowl of oats slid into place before her, and a spoon floated nearby at the ready. “Don’t worry, little sister. I know our duties to this place, and the pledges we have made. Still, it warms me that you are concerned.” She sampled the oats and made a face. While chewing, she doused the remainder with milk and sugar.
Luna nodded, and poured herself a cup of juice before dropping a few muffins on her plate. “I’ll head upstairs, then. Will you be seeking another lesson tonight?” She stood and the juice and muffins floated nearby.
“I will.” Celestia swallowed, the continued. “I will also tell our friend that we need to start spacing them out.”
“I think it will be for the best,” her sister replied. “Your duties do not yet suffer, but such single-mindedness cannot be healthy.” She took a bite from the nearest muffin and chewed thoughtfully.
“I agree.” Celestia set down her spoon and frowned. “I do worry that I might upset him, though. He has taken great pains to travel here, and uproot his life, at our request. If he feels like we’ve become fickle...”
“I will make every effort to attend, then.” She stepped about the table and nuzzled her sister. “It is better that our ponies see us united,” she confided, and then turned for the door.
“Agreed. Sweet dreams, Luna.”
“Good luck.”
Somber stared at the princess. His brow furrowed and his mouth worked silently as he tried to put together the words. He sat down heavily on the edge of the dais and tried again.
“I... do not understand,” Somber croaked. It was difficult for him to speak to others in the best of times, but under such duress it was nearly impossible. “Am I not... teaching well?”
Celestia shook her head. “I am having difficulty managing the spell, but I do not feel that is due to any failure on your part.”
Somber’s mind raced. Any further delay would not be well-received. His Lord was not patient. “Where is... the difficulty... your highness?”
“I think it’s in my ‘touch’, as it were.” She gestured with an outstretched hoof. “When I reach for a thread...” Her hoof spun through the air, then dropped to the ground. “I seem to destroy it as often as I ensnare it.”
“I understand.” There was no helping it. He would have to be more forthcoming. “I... did not want to... distract but there might be... an easier way.”
“Distract? Easier?” Celestia took a half step forward, and peered at him. “What do you mean?”
“Part of the magic... results in dramatic... side effects if you keep your... eyes open. But it might be... easier... to handle the spell.”
“Simply by keeping my eyes open? Why didn’t you mention this before?”
“The... effects, your highness are... very off-putting.” Somber turned and lowered his head. Strange magics flickered and formed before him, and an ebon sphere of crackling energy materialized above the dais. Then, he turned and looked up at Celestia from his seat.
His eyes, once a pleasing green, had changed. Now they glowed an ominous, fiery red, and coursed like living flame. From their corners streamed a menacing purple glow, like a mist of arcane tears.
Celestia recoiled and took a hasty step backwards.
“That...” He closed his eyes as the magic winked out. When he opened them once more, they had returned to normal. “That is what I meant.” He turned his head to look at his cutie mark. It suddenly seemed much more relevant.
“What causes that?” Celestia whispered.
“I think... it’s part of the... looping I do to... control the spell.” He shrugged, then stood once more.
“And you have noticed no ill effects?” asked Luna from the doorway. She strolled towards the pair, serenity itself, but Somber noticed her eyes were locked on him.
“My sister,” Celestia declared. “Welcome.”
Fool! Now they have both seen!
“Your highness,” Somber bowed his head.
Luna did not return the greeting. Instead, she paused at her sister’s side, and looked down at the unicorn.
“I could not help but notice the... effects... of your ability,” she stated. “It is unusual for magic to trigger a secondary glow at all. Even then, it only appears in times of great duress, or when we alicorns delve into deeper magic. And never before have I seen such a dramatic example.”
She frowned at him. “So, it leads me to wonder. Whence comes this ability? What shapes its realm? You have been eager—very eager—to show us this power. But at what price does it come?”
“Your highness... I...” Somber began, fighting to speak, cowering in apparent terror. In the back of his mind, he mused that he may soon stop acting. “I know only that... I can touch it... and use it. I know... nothing more.”
You have given us away, foolish unicorn! The voice in his head screamed with frustration.
Silence! He screamed back at it. There was a long, blissful silence. He marveled in shock. Had the voice fled?
Luna eyed him warily. “A thought has occurred to you, Master Somber?”
Why would... He struggled to control his features. “N-no, your highness. I just...”
“Luna,” Celestia soothed, “he says he means no harm. Unless your abilities can prove differently, would you cease your assault?”
“Assault?” Luna bristled. She looked away from Somber and glared at her sister. “My care for our ponies, and the health of the nation, is assault?”
“Luna,” she replied, her voice quiet and cool. “If you care for our ponies, then show that you care for this one as well. He has done nothing wrong.”
Somber took the opportunity to step back a few paces. Under cover of darkness, he began edging towards the exit. If a fight broke out between alicorns, he was not yet prepared. Still, it was gratifying. He knew he had chosen the right princess, now. He knew what had to be done.
He channeled the barest trickle of power into a well-worn spell and vanished from view.
The sisters were still arguing when the door opened and shut, silently, of its own accord.
Somber was woken by a knock on his chamber door. He stood from his spot before the hearth, and glanced about the room. Beneath the glow of his horn, he could see his sheets were rumpled, his lamps were doused, and his cutie mark was in place. Yes, all was in order.
He approached the door and unbolted it, then swung it open. On the other side stood Celestia, flanked by two of her guards. Their expressions were unreadable, but hers spoke volumes.
“Master Somber,” she said, her voice as warm as her smile. “I wanted to come see you this morning...” She glanced into his quarters. “But I am afraid I may have woken you.”
Somber shook his head. “No matter... highness. Can I help?”
The princess nodded to her guards, who stepped to the far side of the hall, out of earshot. “My friend, it will be difficult for me to spare the time to study with you, but I intend to do so. It will be doubly difficult to avoid... complications.”
Had he not been watching for it, he might have missed her flickered glance skywards—and in the direction of her sister’s tower.
“I propose we meet here, or somewhere close by, at or around noon. Would this meet your schedule? I know you’ve moved some of your business here to accommodate my request, and I would not wish to impose further upon your livelihood.”
“Your highness,” he answered in a low bow. “I could move some... other work around... yes.”
“I shall meet you here, then, today, if that suits you.”
“It does.”
“Thank you, Master Somber. We shall complete these studies soon enough.”
He smiled and bowed once more. “Yes, your highness.”
Celestia turned and rejoined her guard at the end of the hall, then vanished out of sight.
Somber closed the door and latched it, then turned back towards the hearth. He did not need to stand there to speak with his lord, but the more familiar the surroundings the easier it was. He stretched his mind out into the darkness, and...
“You have something to report?”
“Yes, my Lord. There has been a schism, as you predicted. We are ready.”
“Excellent. You may proceed.”
“Thank you, my Lord.”
The connection severed almost instantly, and Somber staggered with the recoil. Wiping a trace of blood from his nostrils, he snorted, and turned back to his bedside table. He began removing its contents—vials, pouches, ampoules, and more—and packing them carefully into a small bag.
Soon, he thought.
Soon, answered the voice.
The laughter that bubbled forth was the first honest emotion he had expressed since his arrival.